Illusions
by KristanRy
Summary: John Watson is having a hard time coping with the recent suicide of his friend Sherlock Holmes. However, there are secrets John has yet to find out that may change everything.


**Hello everyone! So this is my first ever fanfic story type thingy. Please review and let me know what you think of it. Enjoy!**

**-KristanRy**

* * *

"Oh, looks like we're out of time John, same time next week?" said his therapist glancing at her wrist watch. John nodded, doubtful that these sessions would make the death of his friend any easier to handle. He rose from his chair and made his way towards the door.

"Oh and John, please try to work on saying how you feel out loud". John paused for a moment at the door as he felt a knot in his stomach tighten.

John remained facing the door, "See you next week" and he walked out of the office.

John knew all too well what he wanted to say but couldn't bring himself to speak the words. Every time he thought of Sherlock, flashbacks of a falling body followed by a lifeless corpse on the ground would haunt his thoughts. The sickness in John's stomach never left him. His pain and anger were unbearable but somehow he continued to breathe. Mrs. Hudson worried about John. She often visited him since he moved away from 221b Baker Street. He enjoyed her visits but even Mrs. Hudson brought back the memory of him. The evening air was brisk so John pulled the scarf out of his pocket that Mrs. Hudson had given to him as a memento. He wrapped it around his neck in the same fashion as Sherlock. It still smelled like him which was both a comfort and a burden for John.

It didn't take John long to arrive at his new flat. He rummaged in his pockets for his keys, unlocked the door, and hung his coat.

"I'm disappointed in you John. If I were a murderer I would have slit your throat by now." said a voice sitting opposite him in an armchair. John spun around and grabbed the nearest object for defense, "Who's there? What do you want?" The figure stood up and John froze where he stood. "I can't be" he said, "You're…"

"Dead? I thought you'd have a little more faith in me John," Sherlock observed John's state of shock and poor choice of weapon, "John, put down that umbrella you look absolutely ridiculous". John still held the umbrella out towards Holmes debating if this was some kind of post traumatic hallucination. Sherlock could see the doubt in John's eyes and held out his hand for the umbrella. "John give me the…"

"No! Don't come any closer. This isn't real. You...you're..."

"John."

"I'm dreaming. I just need to wake up."

"John".

"You're not real! You're dead!" John repeated trying to convince himself that this would all be over if he could just wake up.

Sherlock sighed and stared at John's confused eyes, "John, calm down and listen to me".

"Don't!" John said as horrific flashback filled his mind.

"I had to convince you that I was dead".

"STOP IT!" said John wishing this nightmare would end.

"John, listen to me! Think back to what I told you. I told you that this was all a magic trick."

"Yes when you were admitting fraud. Sherlock I saw your dead body. I SAW…" John choked on his words fighting back his frustration.

"No John. It was an illusion. It was part of my plan. I knew Moriarty was going to force me to commit suicide and if I didn't you would get hurt. I was right. I was given an ultimatum. Either I kill myself or have my friends be killed. Moriarty had set up snipers to target Mrs. Hudson, Lastrade, and…" Sherlock paused and broke his gaze with John.

"And me" John finished his sentence.

Sherlock continued still unable to look at John. "Yes. I had to convince Moriarty that I could make him call off the snipers and he fell for my plan. He shot himself making it impossible for him to call them off and leaving me with only one option. But, Moriarty didn't know that I saw this coming. I needed you to witness me jumping off the building and believe I was actually dead. It was the only way to protect you."

"But the body" John said feeling sick just thinking about Sherlock on the ground surrounded by blood.

"I had Molly make a corpse look like me and set up the scene as I jumped into the back of truck full of pillows. The building in front of the hospital blocked your view from the ground so all I needed was time to create the scene before you arrived."

"The man on the bike" John said remembering being pushed down to the ground and hitting his head.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Having you be disoriented helped me get away with faking my death."

"So why not tell me after all that? You make me attend your bloody funeral for Christ sake!" John had so many questions but his anger was getting the best of him.

"I didn't want the media to target you for the rumors Moriarty started about me. That's why I put on that charade on the phone with you. It was all an act."

John felt a wave of emotions engulf him. He stumbled backwards bracing himself against the wall. Dizziness overwhelmed him. Sherlock walked over to steady him and then held his face between him palms.

"John, I'm sorry I had to put you through that but there was no other way". John hadn't realized he'd been crying until Sherlock wiped the tears away from his eyes.

"John?"

John couldn't think. He was still having a hard time comprehending all this information.

"John, say something".

Before John knew it he had punched Sherlock square in the jaw.

Sherlock, caught off guard, fell back. "OW! Are you crazy!" he said holding his aching jaw".

"Do you have any idea what you put me through?" Sherlock could hear the anger in John's voice "I…I thought…" but John's words were lost as he felt more tears stream down his face. He wasn't sure if these were tears of anger or happiness or maybe even both. He stood there in disbelieve and felt a little embarrassed for his current state.

Sherlock got up off the ground and walked over to John, "I missed you too," he said as he embraced John, "more than you know".


End file.
